“Do you think Clarence would mind if we stop by the grocery store on the way home”?
This was my Mother’s question…like my husband, who adores her, and she him, would never think for a moment to say no to this woman. He just wouldn’t. So he didn’t, so we did. We stopped.
My Mother, turning 87 this coming week, needs a bit more help than she did when she was younger (the parking lot is icy), so I went in with her to assist. As I handed the grocery store door to the gentleman behind me, he looks me very intently in the eye as he says “thank you”.
I notice and think, “what a nice man. He’s really paying attention to the gesture. That’s awesome. People are good”, and I turn my attention back to my Mom.
We have a process when we shop together, I push, and she picks. So, off we go for about two feet when the gentleman behind me greets my Mother with a “Well hello, Theresa”, and we were off. Chatting, laughing, “well how are you”? More chatting and laughing and “oh you bet” and I introduced myself to this man three times thinking at some point he was going to tell me who he is, or my Mom will get a clue and introduce me…neither of which happened, of course. This is my very small hometown and everyone either knows each other or assumes that you know who they are because, well…see above (very small hometown). Most of them have lived there forever and know one another all the way back to grandparents and neighbors’ cousins. Seriously, I can’t even tell you, these people know each other. Without getting into my introverted self and moving out when I was 18 as to why I don’t know everyone, in a nutshell, there you have it.
I find my break in the conversation, so one more time I say, “Hi, I’m Anne” and stick my hand right at this guy. Finally, my Mom gets it and introduces me to him, and from there the story truly begins.
“I will never be able to thank your parents enough”, he starts speaking, and his eyes fill a bit with tears”. “Jerry and Theresa (my parents) saved me.”
He turns to my Mother, “if it weren’t for the two of you, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me.” Turning back to me, he continues, “your mom and dad had just quit farming and your Dad had a silo full of feed. I was down on my luck, had the worst crop ever, had no feed for my cattle and was about to lose everything. I stopped by to see your Dad, just because he was always a good man to talk to, and he said, come and take mine. We’re done with it, the silo is full and you can have it all. Just come and get it. They saved me”.
The emotion in his voice, the wetness in his eyes, I could feel the hardship of those memories in his voice. My parents quit farming 30 years ago…this was a LONG time ago, but for him, it was like yesterday. He cherished my parents just like it was yesterday.
Remember when I said I moved away when I was 18 years old? Well, I didn’t know any of this. I never asked my parents what they did with leftover feed and stuff like that. I was trying to figure out my own life and cattle feed was not a concern for me.
This is a sweet story and my parents look like really good people in this story because 1) they are and 2) so they did a really good thing to help someone in dire need. It is actually what I would expect from them.
The thing that hit me like nothing else I can remember is my Mothers’ response. As this man held his proverbial hat in his hands, my beautiful Mother simply looked at him and said, “You deserved it. We all have our turn in need, that was just your turn. We’ve had ours too. I know you’ve done lots of good things for other people, you’re a good person. We did what we could because we could. It’s the right thing to do. You give what you can, with what you’ve got.”
There it was. They had more than they needed, so they gave what they had to someone who didn’t have it and needed it. It was so natural, so simple, so automatic, like breathing. Of course, they did…because that is what you do.
She was so humble. It was so simple inside her. It was …true. “You give what you can with what you’ve got”. I watched her sweet face, soft but matter-of-fact, and thought about how amazing she was to me at that moment. I was in awe, of my own Mother, and it was magic. I knew at the same moment her words were a reflection of my Father as well. The act of giving was something they did together and I believe there was never a moment of hesitation between the two of them in this matter.
They say once a parent, always a parent. It’s so true. I’m 54 years old and she’s 87 years old, and I’m still learning from her, and them. At that moment I learned, again, the value of humility. I learned what it looks like to truly give selflessly, simply because one can, without the expectation of getting something back in return, and to let the receiver receive and go on with their sense of pride intact.
It seems like the greatest aspects of our culture and our humanity rolled into one.
When we got back in the car I told my Dad who I met in the store. Nothing more, just who I met. My Mom added, “he said he might stop over for a visit sometime, that would be nice.” My father replied with a simple, “that would be nice”.
And so it was done. Neither of my parents went on to tell the story of how they saved him. Neither one even spoke about him the rest of the way home. It was a non-event. There was nothing that needed to be said.
That night I was lying in bed settling in for sleep and I thought about my parents doing the same and how easily they must sleep at night. I pray so. Simply people doing what’s right because what is right was so clear to them. I fell asleep feeling a greater appreciation for them, yes, of course, and a feeling of having been gifted with something much greater than appreciation, something of a lesson in how to live.
Give what you can, with what you’ve got.
Forever the journey, Anne